


Chains of Blue

by wyldehart



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama & Romance, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erotica, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyldehart/pseuds/wyldehart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyrium. It was given to Templars to fuel their powers against magic but it came with a terrible price: powerful addiction and memory loss. Cullen has decided to quit taking it and his withdrawal reaches a head when he is found floundering in a snow bank by the night watch. Ordered to go to a picturesque lake in South Reach, Ferelden by Cassandra for a short respite, he must deal with the terrible symptoms of quitting a powerful drug with the Inquisitor by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rude Awakening

_Chapter 1_

_“Rude Awakening”_

Sleep was fleeting at Skyhold. Miriana honestly felt that she slept more on the road than she did at home because always someone needed something from her. Being a leader, she had decided some time ago, was a highly rewarding pain in the ass. She loved it but she loved having a life as well. Not that she had any hope of having a life, such as it was, within the confines of the Circle but just to be allowed to sleep a few hours without some catastrophic emergency would be nice.

 

So far, the night had proven exactly what she had craved but her deep slumber would not last long.

 

_BANG BANG BANG!!!_

“Go ‘way! I’m sleepin’!” she mumbled from under layers upon layers of heavy bedding. Despite the fire burning happily in its stone fireplace, the room was cold and she was reluctant to emerge from her nest.

 

_BANG BANG BANG!!!_

“FUCK! I said ‘go away ‘cause I’m sleepin’! Your Inquisitor orders you to…”

 

The next “knock” was the sound of her door being thrust open by a booted foot and the sound of people forcing their way into her rooms. Miriana panicked and prepared a spell that would do little damage but freeze her possible assailants in place. Then she recognized Cassandra. Her hand fell back to her side as the two guards with her gently dropped a comatose man onto her bed.

 

Cassandra lit an oil lamp and carried it to display the haggard face of the pale, drawn man Miriana had come to love in recent months and she gasped. “Cullen! Maker’s breath, what happened to him?”

 

“Nightmares I suspect,” Cassandra said softly. “The guard found him in a snow bank, wandering, shouting at _\- things_. They tried to talk to him but he put up a fight and before passing out. Solas said he needs rest, time and gentleness. Warm clothes, food and quiet were not on that list but I am adding it. He is temporarily relieved of duty, as are you, Inquisitor, until he passes this phase of his recovery.”

 

Miriana threw the sheets from her body, scrambled out of bed and into a robe since her choice for bed clothing tended toward “none.” The guards noticed as did Cassandra but where the guards carefully ignored her, Cassandra did not. “You have become more fit since we first met. Good. Soft leaders do not lead long. Keep that in mind.”

 

“What do you mean that I am relieved? The Inquisition cannot run itself!” Miriana complained as she began an assessment of Cullen’s condition. He was wearing a pair of very thin, red-striped blue sleep pants and a white linen shirt. He was soaked and shivering, lips and fingers a ghastly shade of blue-white. She pushed him up and started pulling the shirt off of him with Cassandra’s help.

 

“You and the Commander have been granted leave for a few days to deal with his lyrium withdrawals. It is necessary. You understand him, you love him and he trusts you. I trust you. If he is to recover from this, he will need you and he will recover faster away from his duties. Do you understand?”

 

Miriana looked across the prone man’s chest at Cassandra and frowned. “So you’ll be down both your Commander and your Inquisitor. How wise is that?”

 

“It happens from time to time regardless when he is called away while you’re off on missions. We will make do as needed. You and the Commander will not shirk your duties entirely, of course. We have made arrangements for you and him to spend time in Ferelden at a cabin on a lake not far from his family home where you will do paperwork as needed but the immediate demands of the Inquisition will be handled by the rest of us. If, however, we have a desperate need for you, we will get in contact. Rest assured, the Inquisition will not be entirely without you or him.”

 

Miriana nodded reluctantly as she pulled the soaked pants from him. His feet were puckered, frigid to the touch and pale blue. She used a touch of fire magic to warm them and was rewarded by a happy pink flush that made them look normal again. As she warmed his feet, she tried not to look at his ample genitalia as it rested against his muscular thighs. It was the first time she had seen a naked man in quite some time and it stirred something within her, especially since this was _him_.

 

Miriana looked up at Cassandra after she wrapped Cullen in a heavy, incredibly soft alpaca-fleece blanket. He was delirious, muttering with his eyes half-lidded, heavy black circles beneath them and his breathing shallow. His state was quite terrifying to anyone who didn’t know what he was enduring. “I see. And when are we to leave?”

 

“Tomorrow. Pack whatever necessities you require but the cabin, donated by a man who owes us much, should be fully furnished. You only need the most basic of personal items. Cullen’s departure, including his belongings will be managed by my select, hand-picked team. None will know of his problems save those present now and none will speak of it.” She looked back at the guard and muttered, “Are we clear?” They nodded.

 

Miriana walked into her well-appointed bathroom where her huge marble tub was and turned the knob for the hot water and added cold water until the bath was tolerable but hot. During renovations, the dwarven builders Josephine hired had installed basic plumbing into the keep for most guest suites, the kitchen, all public privies and most importantly, her own rooms. It was an expensive but greatly welcome luxury, even if the pipes did sometimes freeze or groan when air got into them.

 

Back in the bedroom, Cassandra watched her dispassionately. “You’re the only one who can help him through this the proper way. To the rest of us he will fight like a demon himself to prove he’s fine and fall on his face in the process. If he is to succeed in this, he needs someone he can show his worst side to. It won’t be easy, Inquisitor. He’ll be violent, short-tempered, and desperate for lyrium, sometimes not even aware of anything he is doing or saying. Expect a great, overpowering thirst that no normal beverage can quench. And if you’re expecting to sleep, forget it. His nightmares will keep you both awake. Then there are the headaches… Solas has created a tea from several herbs and oils that will help with that. He warns me that it is foul. If you must, force him to drink it because he assures me that it _will_ help. There is a night version as well that may help with the nightmares but I fear it will mimic lyrium’s ability to create a mental fog. He _must_ learn to deal with his memories as they return to him.”

 

Miriana nodded. “How long will this take? Help me get him into the tub,” Miriana told Cassandra, her chin held high. The Seeker nodded and together, they lifted the big man, now nude, from the bed and hauled him to the hot water waiting him in the tub.

 

“I don’t know. Each person who quits taking lyrium by choice suffers at a different pace than others. Some who go through this particular phase can take from a few days to a few weeks. I wish I had a better answer… He is heavy!” Cassandra remarked. It took the combined effort of both women and a guard to slide the muscular commander into the steaming bath. Miriana pulled her robe closed, tied it at her waist and smiled at the guards before flipping her fingers at them. “Show’s over, boys. Begone.” She sat down on the edge of the tub and looked up at the Seeker. “What time should we be up tomorrow, Cassandra?”

 

“When you are ready, we will be ready. We will wake you around mid-morning and leave Cullen’s armor outside the bedroom. Just ensure that Cullen can walk on his own first.” Miriana nodded but just as she was about to reply, Cullen started to stir and struggled in the tub. She laid her fingers on his shoulder reassuringly. “Until tomorrow, Inquisitor. Ah, have a good sleep. If he allows it,” she said, her eyes on the dazed man sitting in the marble tub. With that, Cassandra turned on her heel and left, her guards following in her wake.

 

Miriana turned back to the tub where Cullen was starting to flail, his motions sending hot water sloshing onto the floor. It was as if he was fighting something only he could see, his hands swinging an unknown weapon at some monstrous assailant in his mind. He was terrified of it, whatever it was. The mage reached out to him, called his name and was unexpectedly hauled into the tub, her hands pushing against his chest as he used his strength to overpower her. “Cullen! Stop!” she gasped as he cried out curses at his demonic nightmare visage.

 

He wasn’t looking _at_ her but rather _through_ her. She was just in the way, standing between himself and his goal. “It must die! I have to- I have to destroy it before it hurts the Inquisitor! My heart… I mustn’t let her be harmed!” he cried.

 

“Cullen, enough! I’m fine! I’m here!” she replied, clinging tightly to him, her head barely above water as he struggled against her.

 

“No! You’re one of them, an illusion to stop me! I know magic! I know this is the Fade! I must save Miriana! Maker, please, my love, be alright…” he pleaded, shoving her back down into the bath, water covering her head. Thankfully, Miriana had grown up around water and could swim as easily as she could do magic. She pushed upwards, avoiding his hands as she fought for air. Her head broke the water’s bubbly surface and she filled her lungs with a loud gasp. She realized that she would have to use magic against him but loathed the idea, especially knowing what he endured in the Fereldan Circle and later, Kirkwall. There must be another way…

 

After borrowing precious seconds to think, Miriana realized that she had one trick she could use that would be non-invasive and harmless against him: she would enter his nightmare through her connection with the Fade and speak to him, wake him up, release him from the talons of the lyrium-deprived dreamscape he had been sucked into.

 

She discovered a hidden reservoir of physical strength that she tapped and used to shove him against the back of the tub and straddle his stomach. He fought her, kicking and shoving at her with his big hands but she held strong as she touched her forehead to his and then reached out to his fractured mind.

 

*I’m here, Cullen. I’m fine. Just open your eyes and you will see. I am warm and safe, in your arms if you reach out and wrap them around me. Please, open your eyes. Look at me. See me. Touch me. I’m here…* He was skeptical at first but he stopped struggling and soon, he relaxed and began to breathe normally once more. His eyes fluttered open and met her violet gaze, seeing her for the first time. She touched his cheek with her fingertips and smiled sweetly at him through the soaked tendrils of her hair.

 

He reached up and caressed her face with his hands before kissing her lips softly. A moment later, he crushed her to him, holding her against as he wept hoarsely into her shoulder, his arms firm around her body. “Maker, I am so, so sorry. I could have drowned you! Forgive me. Wait… How did I get here?”

 

Miriana pulled back a little with a tender smile, her arms loose around his shoulders, the robe clinging to her body like second, nearly transparent skin and floating behind her in the warm water. Cullen was politely averting his gaze though he couldn’t help but take small peeks. “Cassandra brought you here in the hopes that I could find a way to help you through this. Warming up now?” she asked as he swirled the water with his hands. “Fingers still good? Toes? You were apparently out in the snow for a bit. The guards found you and brought you to Cass who brought you to me. You and I are on _vacation_ as of now.” “’Vacation?’ You mean Cassandra finally relieved me of duty…” he said softly, disappointment in his voice.

 

She patted his shoulder. “Not exactly; you’ll have work to do just not here. It will only be for a few days, couple weeks at most. And it isn’t just you, it’s me as well because you really do need me. I’m under orders to keep you stress-free and help get you through the worst of the withdrawals. I’ve been researching Lyrium addiction so I have an idea of what to expect. Had you ever hallucinated in your sleep like this before?”

 

“To the point where I was bumbling about in my bedclothes in the snow? No. I feel like such a fool…” he murmured as he leaned back in the tub, his eyes closed for a moment. “We can avoid all of this if I just start using the lyrium again…” he said, his eyes hungry as he looked at her.

 

Miriana pushed away from him and crossed her arms against her chest. “No, no and more _no_! You are not using lyrium again, ever again. You don’t want that, you know you don’t! How can you believe that for a moment I would allow you to go back on this decision? You know what you’re doing and you know why you’re doing it!”

 

“But the needs of the Inquisition must come first! My- condition- is taking me away from my duties and I swore if it ever came to that I would either relieve myself of duty or start taking it again. This should not involve you.”

 

She leaned forward and covered his mouth with hers, kissing him softly. “But it does and I’m fine with that. I want to help you, Cullen. We’re together now, you aren’t alone. You will never be alone again, not in this or in anything else. We can work this out, you and I. We just have to trust each other. Beloved, let me help you, please.”

 

His eyes fluttered open and he nodded slowly. “You have faith in me where I struggle to believe that breaking free of these blue chains is possible. But if you believe in me then maybe I can believe in me as well. I can do this, I think.”

 

“I know you can do this. Maybe you need some help, tough guy, even if you won’t admit it but that’s why I’m here.”

 

“So, this, ah, _vacation_ … Where will we be going?”

 

Miriana smiled and rested her hands on his chest. She only now realized where she was sitting, her legs spread on either side of his lower stomach. She could feel the heat of his groin beneath her bottom, not quite under it but almost. His skin, however, was in firm contact with her lady bits, the folds spread wide and flush with his strong, muscular body. They were flesh to flesh and she liked it. She had to clear her throat to speak as heat colored her pale skin. “There’s a, ah, a cabin not far from the lake you brought me to a few weeks ago. Remember? The Bann there owes the Inquisition apparently and Josie is calling on favors to let us stay there until you’re no longer risking hypothermia or sleep walking.”

 

He reached out and touched her face with his fingertips. “This is very distracting, madam. _You_ are very distracting. Oddly enough, I only just realized we are both naked. It’s not unpleasant, actually.” he chuckled, his own cheeks flushed pink.

 

“ _You’re_ naked, ser! I am wearing a robe,” she pointed out with a little chuckle.

 

“Is that so? I can’t tell,” he grinned, his eyes determinedly on hers, trying to avert his gaze and clearly failing.

 

She laughed and splashed water on his face before rising to her feet and stepping out of the tub. In his struggles, a great deal of water had exited the tub and now pooled on the mosaic tiles on the floor. “You made a mess, Cullen,” she chided as she looked over her shoulder at him and peeled her soaked robe off. The commander gasped as his eyes widened, her beautiful, toned body filling his gaze and making his mind wander. “I’m glad you approve,” she laughed as she wrapped herself in a plush towel.

 

He got his long legs under him and pushed himself out of the tub unsteadily. Miriana was there to help him as soon as he got back on his feet. He grimaced at her in his shame but she ignored it, her only goal to be where he needed her to be. With one arm around his waist and the hand of her left clutching her towel to her breasts, she helped him exit the tub. He pulled the stopper out with his toes before leaving it completely. “I did slosh out a lot of water, didn’t I?”

 

“I hope the next time we make a mess like this it’s for the right reasons,” she chuckled as she handed him a towel just like hers but a soft shade of blue. She placed two more towels on the floor to soak up the water and pushed them around with her foot while he blinked down at her.

 

“What? Oh… You mean…? In the…?” he stammered, awed that she would suggest making love in the bath.

 

“Maybe. Something to think about, yes? Could be fun.” She held his hand as they exited the bathroom and entered her darkened bedroom. “I wonder what time we’ll be awakened? I am desperate for sleep,” she said as though thinking out loud and drew him to the bed where she gently pushed him into a seated position. Just as his hands reached out for her waist, she turned, leaving him watching after her and uncertain about everything.

 

Miriana dug through a drawer, looking for something to wear and found it; a long wispy negligee in pale purple that flowed around her graceful curves the way smoke drifts around a smoldering coal and nearly as transparent. The twin points of reddish-brown that marked the nipples of her pert, upturned breasts caught and held his attention as they swayed with her every step. If he looked lower, he could see the auburn shadow that marked the finely-trimmed hair of her pubis. He could tell the color even through the hazy lavender fabric. The neckline itself was cut daringly low, trimmed in delicate lace and nearly displaying the whole of her cleavage. As it was, the nearly-sheer fabric left nothing to his imagination and rather enhanced her ethereal beauty.

 

His voice caught in his throat as he tried to say something along the lines of, “You’re beautiful” or anything equally flattering and failed in the attempts. All he could do was stare at her.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked him as she approached the bed.

 

He nodded numbly. “It’s been a few years since I saw a woman dressed like you are. Or undressed as it were. I’m awestruck, I’m afraid. I’ve never seen anything or anyone more beautiful in my life. Do you mind that I’m, ah, that I’m looking? Should I avert my eyes? Maker, this is embarrassing…” He grabbed the sheet then as he realized his body was reacting to the splendorous vision before him.

 

“Don’t hide your arousal on my account; I’m flattered,” she said with a smile as she climbed into the massive bed, a Free-Marcher four-post style with luxurious crimson and white sheets and thick, warm quilt of rich burgundy covering the whole of it. She also had two soft, heavy blankets, one of plush wool and the other made of the fleece of an alpaca. The bed was covered by a dark red canopy and curtains that could be untied and closed for privacy as needed though she never had.

 

She was laying in the bed beside him, only her hard nipples covered by the bodice of her gown as her breasts spread across her chest, her arms above her head. Cullen looked down at her and dared himself to touch her. She smirked up at him, her eyes dancing in the pale lamp light. If he touched her, he wasn’t certain if he could trust himself not to go further but she was there, inviting his gaze, inviting his caress.

 

He supported himself on his left elbow while his eyes slid down her body, tasting her with his mind and imagining himself embracing her, slowly fucking her until neither of them could hold back their desire for release. That was how he liked to make love; slow and steady with a lot of teasing, licking and touching before entering his lover’s body and finishing with loud cries and moans as they gave into the rapture.

 

So he reached out with his fingers and lightly grazed her body with them, skimming her silk-draped stomach, drifting over her pubic region and up over her breasts, where he lingered, teasing and stroking her hard pleasure points. She sighed softly, her eyes closed. “Mmm… You’re very good at this…touching…thing.” She opened her eyes at him dreamily. “I don’t have the energy to make love but if you want to touch my body like you’re doing now, I wouldn’t complain.” He smiled and slowly kissed her mouth, his lips lingering on her chin and neck, slowly worked their way down to her breasts where he used his mouth and tongue, sucking on her hard nipples through the fine fabric. Then his hand moved lower between her thighs and with his fingers he entered her and fondled her clitoris until she was arching her back and clutching at the sheets.

 

Miriana had never met a man who could, using only his mouth and fingers, thrill her to the point of orgasm with no expectation of reciprocation from her. She sang her exaltation out into the room, each ripple of pleasure from his glorious manipulations forcing her voice louder and louder until she flopped back against the pillow, spent and exhausted, labored breathing coming out low and soft. “Maker’s breath, Cullen, where did you learn to do that?”

 

He grinned and pulled her into his arms. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let’s just say that I had a good teacher while I was in Kirkwall who thought I might need to know how women like to be touched and leave it at that. I made the foolish mistake of starting to fall for her and could never show my face at the Rose again.”

 

“She was a courtesan?” Miriana asked him softly.

 

“Ah, yes… You might say she was.”

 

“My first time was with a Templar named Jonah Hetchinson. You might have known him, actually. He was sent to Kirkwall because he deflowered young mages, male and female alike, with the regularity of a bee pollinating blossoms. He even got more than a few impressionable young women pregnant. Thankfully, I was warned so when he took me, I was prepared for everything that might come to pass- and then used it against him.”

 

Cullen stared at her with wide eyes at first before drawing his brows together in a deep frown. “Knight Templar Jonah Hetchinson was a damned pervert! Yes, I do remember him! He tried the same _crap_ in our own circle and I put an end to it! Stopped him in his tracks before he could ruin another apprentice’s life. Why did you allow it to happen if you knew what he was doing?”

 

She shrugged and stretched, her arms reaching high over her head as she thought back to that day. “He had a sick reputation and I had a vested interest in protecting my fellow mages. I permitted him to think he was seducing me and while he was happily fucking me, several higher-ranked Templars and the First Enchanter entered the room I told them we would be in and they caught him in the act. I trapped him using myself as bait, albeit willingly. He would never have allowed me to get away with it if he had known I was on to him; Ser Jonah liked his mages to be ignorant of the realities of what he was. I was hoping they would kick him from the order entirely but they reassigned him instead. It was so damned frustrating…! I’m happy you stopped him. Where is he?”

 

Cullen laid back on the bed and drew her against him. “Rotting in a labor camp in Orlais. Most of our mages were not allowed out of their cells and they respected the strict rules we had against fraternization so what he had been freely given at Ostwick, he tried to take by force in Kirkwall. The cries of rape became so numerous that, despite Meredith’s refusal to investigate, _I_ investigated anyway and discovered what he was doing. I took his shield and handed him over to the Seekers for judgment. He was found guilty on multiple counts and sentenced to hard labor in an Orlesian quarry that uses prisoners instead of paid workers.”

 

“Good. He got what he deserved then. After him, all my encounters, with Templars or otherwise, were willing and desired. But they were nothing like this, like us. I’ve never fallen for anyone like I’m falling for you, Cullen. This is a new experience for me.”

 

He kissed her forehead and cuddled her tightly against his chest. “And for me, my lady.”

 

When sleep came for them, it came easily.

 

…Until the nightmares began in earnest for Cullen…

 

 

To be continued

 

 

 

 

 


	2. A Harrowing Revelation

Chains of Blue

 

Chapter 2

 

_“A Harrowing Revelation”_

 

 

_Blue. Everything was blue. It was as if he stood within the heart of a giant topaz, the light gleaming from every angle and bathing him in a pale, sky blue hue. He stood up to his leather-clad ankles in brightly glowing blue liquid, a liquid that was slowly rising, inching along his calves and sliding up over his knees. He looked up, his heart racing with panic as his eyes met hers…_

_The girl, a mage from long ago that he had loved in silence. Amell. The woman that didn’t pass her harrowing. The woman he had lost his virginity to._

_The woman he had had to kill so many years ago._

_Naked, she stood against a pillar in the center of the blue encrusted chamber, her arms and feet tied to it and her chin thrust skyward in defiance. Why was his mind doing this to him? Killing her had been his last option but the demon had succeeded, had entered her body and Cullen had had no choice. The woman he loved, the body he had so gently treasured with lips and hands just hours earlier, lay dead in a pool of blood that day after her harrowing, felled by his sword._

_He wept as he approached her, determined to make her survive this rising pool of azure fluid. It had now reached his waist and lapped at her breasts. “Come to kill me again?” she accused, her eyes like hard flint._

_Cullen felt a chill run through him. “No! I want to free you!” he cried._

_“I am already free,” she said, her voice changing, getting deeper and body morphing, changing into a tall, blue-skinned desire demon. The exotic woman, her breasts swaying seductively against her chest while her gold nipple piercings caught the blue light of the chamber, laughed, towering over Cullen. “If you had loved me, saved me rather than killed me, this might not have happened but now look at you! A failure. You cannot even keep the lyrium out of your mind, let alone your veins. You want it, don’t you? If you could bring your mage back, would you drown in lyrium’s embrace once more?”_

_Cullen was familiar with this line of questioning and always before he had doubted himself but some part of his mind reassured him that the answer was a resolute “no.” He looked up at her, met her gaze and steeled himself against her wrath. “My life has a purpose greater than that which the lyrium once offered me. You and your temptations will no longer seduce me with your poison and no, no Lady Amell would have died even had I saved her. She was too weak and the Harrowing proved it. I regret the loss of her life and yes, even today I am pained by her memory but the past is past. I must look forward now.”_

_The demon circled him, her torso flowing through the lyrium lapping at his shoulders as her fingers slid along his cheek, claws scraping the tender flesh. “Then perhaps forgetting her would be easier…? Watch what you did! You wish to remember this, fool?”_

_Before him once more was his former lover as he remembered her during her Harrowing, shoulders slumped and head bowed forward as she tried to control the demons in her part of the Fade. She was failing! They couldn’t sway her mind but they could harm her so they killed her spirit and then took her body. Behind the vision of himself, Knight Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving informed him that the young apprentice had lost her battle in the Fade, that to keep the demon from entering their world, he would have to kill her. He watched himself hesitate, say a prayer, draw his sword and wept as his memory-self nodded slowly, tears streaming from his light brown eyes. When the death blow was struck, killing the girl, Cullen’s dream-self dropped into the lyrium and cried out his horror, the rage he felt, the helplessness flooding back after years hidden in lyrium fog._

_“Free yourself, Cullen. Ask for your lyrium, beg for it. Let it fill you once again so that you can forget. Forget them all…” She gestured to unobservable ceiling, which was shrouded in darkness. The young Amell had not been his first dead mage and the bodies, all of them bearing familiar faces, dropped one by one from above, splashing into the pool surrounding him._

_A final body wearing clothes bearing the insignia of the Inquisition, topped the pile of death before him. His pulse quickened and he climbed over the mages he’d killed over the years to reach her. His heart beat roared in his ears as he whispered, “No,” over and over, tears streaming from his eyes. He reached out, gathered Miriana into his arms and rocked the lifeless body of the woman he loved against his chest. “NO! You_ bitch _! Miriana cannot be susceptible to being possessed! I have seen firsthand what my lady is capable of and she will never-“_

_“But she is a mage, is she not? Are you so blind to your affections that you have forgotten what 0000000weak creatures mages are? You hated them in the past. Why change now?” the demon purred into his ear, her silken words seductive, twisting his mind, manipulating his thoughts. Then the lyrium reached the top of the dead pile and him. He fought to keep his face above the glowing, blue surface but he was failing._

_Spitting out the bitter liquid, he roared, “Because that is not who I am anymore!_ It is not who I am! _Get away from me, monster! Away!”_

_“You will kill her, too, eventually…”_

_“_ NOOOOOOOOOOOO...!”

 

And the lyrium consumed him.

 

***  


_“….OOOOOOOOO!”_

“Cullen! Wake up! You’re having a nightmare. Please, Cullen!” She was holding him, rocking him while he pounded the bed with his fists and wept, and yelling, “No! Get away from me, fiend! I know the truth! I know the truth and I know her!”

 

_“Cullen!”_ she cried again but this time with a firm shake that ended in an embrace. His eyes, sticky, wet tears clinging to his lashes and his lips swollen from weeping, fluttered open, his expression full of so much joy mingled with sorrow that Miriana caught her breath and held him to her. “Are they always this bad,” she whispered into his soft, sweat-soaked blond curls.

 

“Sometimes,” he whispered back. “Thank you for being here. Being with me, letting me stay.”

 

“You had no choice in the matter; the Seeker is a strong-willed woman. Will you be alright? Do you want to talk about it? About her?”

 

“No-yes. I probably should. Maker, I don’t know where to begin…” he said, pulling Miriana down to the bed and clinging to her tightly with both arms, his head against the pillow of her breasts.

 

“Who was she, Cullen? The girl in your nightmare?” Miriana asked gently.

 

He breathed against the skin between her breasts, his tears pooling and sliding away as she breathed. One breast was slightly exposed, neither cared. Thoughts of passion were dismissed as thoughts of friendship took their place. “Amell,” he breathed. “Kyria Amell. She was young, dark-haired with smoky eyes that could light up a room. She was a gifted mage but she lacked control and was possessed of determination far exceeding her skill. Kyria was also my-my lover. My first, actually. I was in love with her, I think, my feelings far out of line but undeniable. I had no idea what I would have done with her. I knew we were destined for heartache but she was important to me so thoughts of the future paled in light of our happy, secret present. Lyrium… It does that, makes you live in a fog. You forget your past, ignore your future and pray that anything horrible you do today will be stripped from your mind with enough lyrium.

 

“I knew she wasn’t ready for her Harrowing but her professors had deemed her prepared as she ever would be and she stepped up, ready for what was to come. I had been chosen to oversee her Harrowing, kill her if need-be. I knew then that this was not by accident, that someone had conspired to tear us apart but nothing could be changed. It was done. And she would have to succeed or die by my hand…”

 

He paused in his narrative, his eyes closed and a new flood of tears streaming from them. “I take it things did not go well?” Miriana asked in the silence of the dark room.

 

He shook his head, his body giving a convulsive shudder as he relived the shame of that day. “No. Her spirit was torn apart by demons and one had taken her body. I had seconds to take her out before it weakened the veil enough to let others in. So I killed her. She wasn’t the first mage whose life I had taken, the first demon I had faced and she wasn’t my last. But she was precious to me and killing her…”

 

“…was like killing a part of yourself? Yes, I understand. A similar thing happened at Ostwick but in that case, the Templar who struck down his lover was later found hanged by his own hands. I’m glad you didn’t take a similar path,” Miriana said softly, her fingers stroking his hair, caressing his shoulders.

 

“Yes. It hurt but eventually I forgot like I forgot other things in my life. It was easy to surrender to the lyrium but I eventually realized that it is nothing less than chains of a kind of slavery. You become bound by it to the order, leashed like a dog and if you strayed too far… You always go back for more.

 

“My nightmares, often as not, are my cravings manifesting themselves as visions, urging me to take it. I refuse. I won’t! I can’t! But… Maker’s breath, it is hard to resist! I need it, crave it, want it and I feel helpless without it!” He pushed his body away from hers, his face contorted in agony. “If the urges become too great, I could hurt you, Miriana! This nightmare suggested that I was going to kill you.”

 

“Bullshit,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve faced down pride demons with more desperation than you. Besides, you know me. Isn’t that what you told your dream-demon? You know me and you know that I am not like other mages.”

 

He blinked at her as if reminded of something he had forgotten. Then he covered her mouth with his in a desperate kiss, his arms encircling her body as he pulled her up against him. Miriana clung to his neck during the possessive lip-lock and struggled to feed his hunger for more. It was hard to say why he was kissing her so hard but she suspected it was to make sure she was real and still his. Miriana smiled as he pulled away slightly, his expression one of embarrassment. “It was good- and awkward- discussing this with you. How do you feel about it?” he asked her softly.

 

She smiled and lightly brushed his cheek with her fingers. “I’m fine, Cullen. Nothing has changed between us, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

 

“Oh. I do feel better hearing you say that. And I thank you for being so understanding of all of this. Do we want to attempt sleep again?” He asked as he settled back down and this time he laid on his back, pulling her against him.

 

She smiled and yawned, her body desperate for the thing she had been craving- and denied- all evening. “May we at least _try_?”

 

He chuckled and kissed her brow before drifting off in a pleasant, nightmare-free slumber with his Inquisitor by his side. As his thoughts faded, he realized that he could do this- as long as he didn’t have to suffer it alone. It wouldn’t be easy but maybe Cassandra was right about his needing an honest vacation away from the stress of his work…

 

TBC…


	3. Cabin on a Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perfect spot to relax with a lovely woman and fish, of course.

Chains of Blue

 

Chapter 3

 

_Cabin on a Lake_

The journey to South Reach was as uneventfully peaceful as Miriana could have hoped. The morning they left, Cullen’s head was throbbing and though he said little in protest, Cassandra could tell he was upset about being sent away. He understood why he had to take a break but still, he hated the idea of it. Work, he said, relaxed him, eased his mind though it was clear from those moments he sat at his desk, eyes unfocused, that he was lying in order to preserve his internal image of himself. The truth was, leaving went against everything he believed in. He rode in silence for the most part during the day and slept in her arms at night while the guards they traveled with kept watch. His dreams were troubled, the memories bitter berries that left a foul taste in mouth and mind come morning.

 

Slowly, the terrain changed from snow-capped mountains to deep, rolling hills of flower-studded green. Miriana found peace in watching the tranquil vistas drift by on soft breezes that grew warmer the lower they descended into Fereleden. It only took four days of modest travel to reach their destination, which lie just on the other side of the vast forested Hinterlands region. The tall trees rose above them, dappling the Inquisitor’s men and commander green shadows and bright sun as they rode through the stately forests in weather that was warm, calm and thankfully rain-free.

 

By the third day, Miriana looked over at Cullen, whose eyes remained downcast and his inner struggles held close to him. Despite his outward calm, Miriana knew he was struggling inside himself in a battle that few understood or could appreciate. Even she, try as she might, could only scrape the surface of his suffering.

 

He looked across at her, his skin gleaming in the dappled light, and smiled weakly. “I apologize if I haven’t been very good company on the journey. I’m afraid I’m not dealing with this very well, My Lady. I can’t wait to get off this horse, into your arms and not have to get back on. How much further until we arrive at our destination?”

 

She rode her horse close to his and reached out to rub his arm reassuringly. “My map indicates we’re close. If we don’t make camp, we’ll be there late tonight but if we ride as we have been, we should be there early tomorrow morning. Josie reassures me that you’ll love the place. She said her diplomats, while arranging our use of the place, noted it had a certain ‘well-appointed, if rustic, charm.’”

 

He held her hand in his and squeezed it firmly as he said, “If it has a warm bed and you in it, I’ll be fine.” He thought about what he’d said and his eyes widened. “I mean, in the cabin! You! You in the cabin with a warm bed in the cabin. Maker, I’m bad at this.”

 

Miriana laughed and touched his face with her fingertips. “I’ll be in that _cabin_ right there with you, Commander.”

 

He chuckled as they followed the road and fell back into a calm, companionable silence, their shared smiles providing much of their communication. As they rounded a bend near the edge of the great Hinterlands, one of the three scouts in their party ran back to them and alerted them to an ambush ahead. Where they were now was in the midst of a clearing but up ahead was a dense copse of thick vegetation, tall trees and thick shrubs that would provide excellent cover.

 

Miriana had been ambushed here before but the bandits usually preyed on weak targets, not strong ones like her and her party. Because they were not in an official capacity, banners and other Inquisition regalia was packed away and heavy cloaks obscured their armor and gear, though her staff was clearly visible across her back. So, they looked rather like nobles en route to some destination in the south, packed for a lengthy stay and a prime target.

 

She sighed. “I’ll be back shortly. Protect the horses and don’t hesitate to flee if the fighting gets too close,” she said as she slid off her horse and handed the reins to one of the guards before pulling her huge, skull-topped staff from the sling on her back.

 

Cullen dismounted, approached her and loosened his sword in its scabbard with a grin. “Shall we fight side by side, my lady?”

 

She caressed his cheek and he closed his eyes, rubbing his face against her fingers. “You sure? What about your head?” she asked him softly.

 

“I think fighting off a few opportunists with more stupidity than sense will do wonders for me,” he replied as he pulled away the cloak from his shoulders and handed it along with hers, to the awaiting guard. “If we need you, we’ll call. But I think we’ve got this,” he told them with a grin.

 

Miriana smiled and pushed out of the clearing and entered the much darker region up ahead, along the road. Cullen withdrew his sword, readied his shield and followed her, walking slowly as he circled around, his eyes scanning every possible location a bandit might be lurking. They could not afford a misstep as the highwaymen would not give them a second chance. He knew that there had to be archers. Why weren’t they firing? Every instinct, every battle-hewn sense screamed that something was not right. “Be wary, my lady. This is no simple ambush.”

 

Suddenly, lightning lanced from Miriana’s staff and struck something in the trees that grunted and fell from the canopy, unconscious. His bow snapped in two on impact. “Nice shot!” Cullen said. At least one archer but he never got a shot off. Why?

 

Miriana looked up, her skull-topped staff glowing ominously and said, “We’re not done yet. Look, over there, between those two trees… See him?” Cullen nodded. “You want him?” The commander grinned and approached the area Miriana indicated and rushed in with his shield, throwing his target through the air before landing on his back in a thorny holly bush. The man yelped as the spiny leaves bit into him but cried out when, a second later, Cullen hauled him out of the shrub and threw him onto the ground. The archer thrust up with his dagger but Cullen, ever wise to the techniques of rogues and bandits, avoided each upward thrust with either his sword of his shield. Eventually his motions became futile, weak attempts that Cullen was too fast for, dodging the attacks with finesse before plunging his sword into the bandit’s shoulder, a nasty, if non-lethal wound. For now, anyway.

 

Miriana looked from where too more men were twitching on the forest floor, her lighting spell causing tendrils of skyfire lancing across their skin. One man was dead. The others were swiftly and efficiently concluded with the final dispatch of three more men between them. Cullen and the scout hunted through the bodies and on one of the men, Cullen found a short note, “Take her alive at all costs.” The scout looked startled as he read it and she pocketed another note she discovered on one of Miriana’s lightning victims without showing it to either the Inquisitor or Cullen.

 

“This explains why the archers didn’t attack right away,” Cullen murmured as he handed Miriana the note. “How they knew you were coming this way, however, is the question. This does not bode well… I wonder if we have a spy in our midst?” he said as pursed his lips and looked back at the guards. He had hand-picked the men and women by their side so he thought he could trust them, or so he thought. He hoped.

 

“Let’s keep going,” Miriana said softly as she tugged on Cullen’s sleeve. “We’ll put our heads together after we arrive, after we’ve settled in.”

 

“Sounds good. Men, clean up the bodies and send the survivors off with a message of their failure. We’re pushing ahead with our gear,” Cullen ordered as the pair pushed their horses along the road and back into the forest before them.

 

“Scout Ordell stayed back there with the men. Did she seem odd to you?” Miriana remarked as they rode their horses abreast, the lone guard with the donkey bearing their gear in their wake.

 

“Yes but I didn’t see anything untoward. Did you see something?” Cullen asked with a sideways look at his lady.

 

“Not really but she seemed… Unsurprised by the attack. Granted she did warn us about them but there was just something odd… I wish I could put my finger on it. Ah well.” She looked back over her shoulder at the guard and pointed to a lake they were approaching. “We’re heading off the road and traveling along this lake. The cabin should be right about there…” she said, squinting as she pointed through the trees at a spot on the distant shore. With the fighting concluded, the area was peaceful and inviting, the cool waters begging them to jump in for a swim.

 

“You help them plan this?” Cullen asked her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

 

“No but Cass filled me in on exactly how to find it. I have an idea of what it looks like, too, thanks to Josie. Trust me, the night they dropped you on my bed was the first I’d heard of this place.” Smirking, she then unrolled the map she carried in a case on her saddle. “Plus, it’s here, on my map. There’s the lake and here’s us, see? There’s the cabin.”

 

Cullen laughed and settled into the remainder of their journey, which took them the better part of the afternoon and into the early evening. The place was deceptively close according to the map but the distance, coupled with uneven terrain and dense foliage, made the journey a challenging one. But the weather was good and a light breeze kept them cool but not cold. In between companionable silences, Cullen and Miriana discussed their plans, ideas they had for the week or two they expected to remain at the cabin. Cullen knew they would have work to do but in between work, there would be periods when sitting around would be boring. “We’ll find something exciting to do, I’m sure,” Miriana murmured vaguely. “We could play cards! Or swim. Things like that.” Cullen blushed as if he’d only just realized he was going to be spending many days alone with the woman he’d been steadily falling in love with over the past several weeks. He wondered if he would be able to resist the temptation of her perfect body. He wondered if he wanted to.

 

There was a village nearby, according to the map. Cullen was familiar with it, a place called Mistvale. It was clean as Fereldan villages went with a couple of nice taverns and an Orlesian Bistro run by a man as fair as his food was excellent. It was high on the Commander’s list of “must-visit” places. There was shopping as well and it was rumored that King Alistair and Queen Elissa had once been frequent visitors to the Lakewind Inn and Tavern. The barrel they were once caught making love on was enshrined with a plaque in a back corner where other couples continued carried on the “tradition.”

 

After a short debate, they decided to make camp rather than push on into night.

 

By morning, Cullen’s headache was severe enough that not even the special tea Solas sent with them seemed to help. He insisted on helping them pack as he walked around the camp, wincing with each step. “I’m fine!” he protested as Miriana took the chattering eating plates and utensils from his shaking hands. She quirked a brow at him and shook her head as he sat down on a fallen log, his face cradled by his hands.

 

“’Fine’ as rough burlap. You need to rest. In about an hour or two, I’m going to insist on it,” Miriana grumbled as she passed the items off to the guards, who carefully packed them away.

 

Bristling, Cullen rose to his feet. “I’m not helpless, Miriana. It’s just a headache,” he protested as he followed her around to her horse, his eyebrows drawn low in a deep scowl.

 

She stopped readying her horse’s tack and frowned over her shoulder at him. “Look at your hands. Look at them, Cullen! They’re shaking! You’re strong, you’re brave but you’re not doing anyone any favors by being so stoic you suffer for it.” She turned back to her horse and finished tightening the cinches to the saddle and climbed up in it. Cullen looked up at her, visibly shaken as he looked down at his quivering hands, started to say something but was interrupted by a guard holding the reins of his dappled grey gelding.

 

“He’s ready, Ser.”

“I… Yes, thank you.” He put his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself into the saddle in silence, his eyes on Miriana as he guided the big animal beside Miriana’s fiery chestnut. “Thank you for looking out for me. I dislike feeling like this but… I understand. I think. I’m just used to being in control over every aspect of my life, personal and professional. This battle with the Lyrium takes the control away from me, you see.”

 

“I know. I do understand and that is why I am with you. Do you trust me?”

 

“Of course I trust you!”

 

“Good. Make sure you remember that as we manage this for the next two weeks. Are you ready to see our little cottage in the woods?” He nodded and reached across the space between them to take her hand.

 

“Thank you, Miriana.”

 

“Thank me _after_ we get you through this! Then we’ll drink a toast, get ridiculously drunk and do embarrassing things to one another until we both pass out.” She smiled as Cullen’s bewhiskered cheeks flushed hotly and he looked away. Some things just had no justifiable response that wouldn’t sound ridiculous coming from his lips. He knew he wanted her to touch him but he didn’t know how to approach it without seeming crude. The more she alluded to bedding him, the more he wanted her and the harder it was hold himself back. One day, he realized, he would give into his desires and that day could hopefully be very soon.

 

* * *

 

 

They arrived at the cottage an hour later and Cullen grinned broadly. It was perfect! The place was modest, sturdy, built of interlocking shaved logs packed with bonding cement and it featured a peaked wooden roof thatched and alive with a carpet of hundreds of wild flowers. Even now, this late in the year, the flowers bloomed in all colors and varieties high above them, serving to improve the integrity of the roof as well as adding to its aesthetic qualities.  There was a tall stack of wood near the house with an axe for splitting larger pieces into smaller ones with a fair stack of logs of varying sizes ready for the fireplace. He was eager to explore the interior, which he suspected was going to be as nice as the outside.

 

“I’m going to build a fire after we unpack,” Cullen declared eagerly as he took an armload of gear off the donkey, which appeared relieved that its burden was finally being moved from its back. A guard collected three cages bearing the crows they would use for communication with Skyhold from the back of a second donkey.

 

The crows were highly intelligent and instinctively knew where home was. It would only take one journey for them to remember where the vacationing Inquisition leaders were. They were eager to be free of their confinement and would not stray during the trip unless sent west.

 

With a couple packs on her own shoulders, the mage grinned and produced a little flame between her fingers. “I could do it faster,” she offered.

 

Cullen blinked back at her, offended by the suggestion that building a fire with magic would be better than doing it the old fashioned way and he said so. “I’m being forced to take a vacation, this is a cabin and there’s a fire to be made with my hands. _I’m_ doing it, Lady Sparkle Fingers. It’s like fishing: if I see a pole and a boat, I intend to fish. Without magic. Not that I have anything against your gifts, it’s just… This place screams at getting back to basics, living simply and without the posh and pomp of the Inquisition’s coin and prestige. I like that because it’s what I have to do, which is why Josie likely thought of this place, actually.”

 

He hauled their packs inside and found the interior was far less rustic than the outside indicated. For one, it had several glass windows, expensive by any account. The living area was sunken from the rest of the place and boasted a massive, marble-trimmed fireplace in the corner of the room. There were two couches piled high with pillows but there were also several pillows on the floor where a heavy, white bear-skin rug dominated the dark, polished wood.

 

Looking up revealed a high, open ceiling with a loft on the back side of the house a spiral staircase leading up into it. Cullen wondered if it was a bedroom area, a sitting area or simply storage. He was eager to discover its secrets but the well-appointed bedroom with its rustic, Fereldan charm beckoned to him. The large four-post bed, which turned out to be the only one in the place was wide, covered in pillows and a heavy quilt decorated with wolves, Avvar fertility symbols and heavily stylized Mabari. He realized with a flush of color to his cheeks that they would have to share it.

 

Ignoring the bed, he noted two curtains windows filled with glass panes, a low, flat stool and a massive dresser of carved, polished wood on one side of the room would hold their things for the period of time they were here. The curtains stretching between the posts on the bed could be closed if the chose and his mind began to wander.

 

“Find anything interesting? Like a privy?” Miriana called out from the living area.

 

Cullen dropped his bags on the floor and jogged back out into the main room where he picked Miriana up into his arms and carried her back out of the house. She blinked up at him in confusion as he set her down. “There a problem?” she asked as he held her against him.

 

“None, no but… See, it’s bad luck for couples to enter a shared space apart,” he explained.

 

“You did…” she reminded him.

 

“I… Yes, I did. Because I forgot about the tradition. For a moment.”

 

“You’re making this up as an excuse to kiss me,” she accused with a smile as her violet gaze settled on his hazel-eyed face.

 

He laughed nervously and then, as she predicted, he swept her up into his arms and kissed her rather passionately as he carried her across the cabin’s threshold into the main room. There, their kiss continued, his hands finding her curves and his mouth stirring her blood with carefully timed licks and nips across her neck, jaw, cheeks and mouth. Then her hand found his semi-erect cock, squeezed it and that’s when his eyes spotted two fishing poles by a back door, under the loft where the modest kitchen was. “Oh, look! Fishing poles! Let’s go fishing!” Cullen exclaimed as he broke away from Miriana’s inquisitive fingers.

 

“Fishing? Why? I’d rather take this into the bedroom for a little ‘fishing’ of my own. If you use your rod well enough, you might get a really good catch,” she murmured with a teasing smile, her hand reaching out to touch his crotch again.

 

He avoided her though and caught up the poles in his hands. “Nice poles, too! Look how flexible they are. The privy appears to be there,” he said, nodding to the door next to the bedroom. “You do that and I’m… Er, I’ll get the boat ready.”

 

“What is the appeal of fishing?” Miriana asked as she headed for the door he indicated.

 

Cullen smiled and thought for a moment before explaining, “It’s peaceful, sitting in a boat while the waves gently rock you. There’s a chance, if you use the right bait, you’ll catch something but I guess there’s just something soothing about being surrounded by nature with nothing on your mind other than the next catch.” He leaned against the door and smiled, his eyes unfocused. “It returns you back to yourself. I need that kind of peace badly right now.”

 

Miriana sighed and laughed. “My brothers enjoyed fishing but mother called it a ‘colossal waste of time not fit for a lady.’ I was never taught as a result despite growing up near water. I can, however, swim very well. Since you have your heart set on catching fish, I’ll grab a few essentials and meet you down by the water. Assuming you don’t change your mind about which _rod_ to use…” she quipped as she disappeared into the spacious privy.

 

“It isn’t about making the catch, Miriana; it’s about the process of baiting, waiting and letting the fish decide to be caught. I like that part the most,” he chuckled as he headed outside, poles in hand and his eyes on a bait bucket by the steps leading to the dock.

 

 

To Be Continued…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Rods Are For Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like an afternoon of flirting and fun on the water.

Chains of Blue

Chapter 4

_Rods Are For Fishing_

The day could not have been nicer, the sun more welcoming, the breeze more inviting and the lake more calm. Miriana breathed in the warm, summer air with a sigh of pleasure as she lugged her modest burden down the bank to the pier where Cullen waited for her. He'd already put the rods, a bucket and the bait jar into the boat and now stood in it, waiting eagerly for her. "Finally! Took you long enough to get out here. What's all that?" he asked, nodding at the neatly folded blanket and pillow in her arms and the basket hanging at her elbow.

"My understanding of fishing is that it involves a lot of sitting and waiting. I wish to do so in comfort if you don't mind. And this," she raised her elbow with its swaying treasure, "…is lunch."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and chuckled, "You…cook? Bull told me they keep you as far away from the cook fire as they can." He took the items from her and laid them on the third seat of the wooden rowboat before offering her his hand, which she took with a smile of thanks and settled into the seat behind him, the boat rocking beneath them.

Defensive, she grunted as she sat down behind him. "It doesn't take an Orlesian pastry chef to slap some bred together with smoked ham, cheese and that spicy Antivan spread Josie loves. Also, Krem sent along some of his favorite wines and spirits with Bull's blessing, apparently. His note instructed us to 'let our hair down and have fun with all that that entails.' I brought a bottle of the wine."

"I see. So—we're ready then?" Cullen asked, his hands on the rope holding the boat to the dock.

"Yep! Push off, Captain!"

"Aye-aye, Admiral! Out to sea for a mighty voyage on lake something or something in Southreach!" Cullen laughed, eyes twinkling as he settled in to row them out into the still waters of the lake. It didn't take long, his strong, muscular arms propelling them swiftly into the center of the pristine lagoon.

He was in his element, the breeze in his hair, the sun on his face and a lightness in his eyes that she couldn't recall ever seeing. Their vacation was off to an excellent start, Miriana decided as the boat pushed through the glass-like surface. "How far out do we go?" she asked him as he dipped the oars into the lake's smooth surface.

"I don't know… Anywhere I suppose. The deepest part of the lake is over there so up ahead a bit but not too deep as we need to drop anchor and have it catch on something. Otherwise, we'll drift. But I'll be honest… I'm enjoying paddling around right now. I haven't done this in much too long… It's so relaxing. We'll explore a bit before we pull out the rods, maybe eat lunch then. Good for you?"

"You're the captain," she reminded him with a chuckle as he sent the boat off in a quick, easy glide along the water's surface. They spent a good hour rowing the boat around and getting a good idea of where they were and how big the lake was. Though it wasn't huge, its size was impressive enough to make him whistle, impressed at how much they could move around. When it seemed that they had explored enough, Cullen turned the boat back toward the cabin.

Eventually, he brought the rowboat into familiar territory and Miriana hauled the heavy iron anchor overboard. Once it was caught on the bottom, they arranged the pillow and blanket then Cullen handed Miriana her fishing pole. He quickly went over the parts of the rod, pointing out the line, the reel, the sinker, the bob and the hook, which was designed for small fish. Miriana was unimpressed until Cullen withdrew a fat worm from the clay bait jar with a broad grin on his face. Miriana blinked and balked as he tried to hand the writhing creature to her.

"Are you mad?" she blurted. "I am not touching that—thing!"

Cullen laughed and took the hook in his fingers then carefully threaded the thrashing night crawler onto the hook where it continued squirming in vain. "Demons, Darkspawn, giant spiders, Red Lyrium Templars, bears, giants, dragons even and you don't bat an eyelash. But a pathetic little worm and you're squeamish. I think it's cute." Cullen took the pole from her and laid it aside, the worm struggling from the hook.

Miriana received the other rod from him and flinched as he tried to pass her the second worm. "It's slimy. Ugh. Nasty thing," she muttered as she pinched it from her fingers before letting it go into the bottom of the boat with a most un-Inquisitor-like yelp. Cullen tsked as he handed it back to her.

"Go on, you can do it. If you don't, I'll tell Bull you couldn't impale a worm on a hook."

"Give me a sword, Cullen, and I'll happily impale it…" she growled as he laughed. Though she hated it, Miriana did secure the second worm and handed Cullen the pole. "Now what?"

"Grab your rod…" He felt her fingers grasp his cock in a firm grip and rolled his eyes before glaring at her. "That's not your rod. I might let you use it someday but today, rods are for fishing. Unlock the reel and hold it in place. What we're doing is casting the bait out into the water. Pull it back and then fling it out in a broad, sweeping motion until the worm lands in the water. Just like that. Perfect!" He flung out his line and settled in beside her with a happy sigh.

"And now…?" she asked.

"Now we wait!" he exclaimed as he rested his head against her shoulder, one hand holding the rod between his legs and his arm around her.

She tilted her head against his and held him, her own rod grasped between her thighs. "What do we do while we wait?" she asked.

"Talk or relax. Enjoy the peace and quiet away from our troubles, I suppose. If we're going to have a vacation thrust upon us, we might as well take pleasure from it." Cullen settled in and Miriana, skeptical about enjoying the idea of not _doing anything_ , followed suit. But as the afternoon wore on and they embarked on a verbal adventure into one another's histories, Miriana found herself rather delighted with this unexpected chance to get to know Cullen better. He was inquisitive, soft spoken, shy at times but brazen at others and infinitely curious about her dealings with Templars.

They had a lot in common, she discovered with pleasant surprise. All her life, she had assumed that Templars were given greater freedoms than mages—which they were, to a point. They could marry, have children but the downside was that the Order determined if a Templar was even allowed and then they approved or disapproved of the potential spouse based on many mitigating factors. Breaking free of the Templars was not much different from a mage breaking free of the Circle but instead of a phylactery, Templars had chains of blue, the lyrium they took to fuel their abilities. The lyrium ensured that they were never far from the Order and if they did drift away, they would suffer or risk imprisonment for using a chantry controlled substance. Miriana decided she didn't envy them.

Lunch was enjoyed sometime later, neither aware nor caring about the time of day. Wine made the minutes even less important while it also loosened up shy tongues, making conversations Cullen would not have had under any circumstances more than just a pleasant diversion but entertaining as well.

Eventually, the subject turned to sex.

Their experiences with lovers were similar as well. Cullen was no virgin, certainly, a fact she was rather pleased with, having "broken" many young Templars during her years in the circle. She was not afraid of them, had never resented their desire for her body but not her heart and was happy with teaching them about where to put their hands. But never had a man shown her much more than the most base sexual courtesy. It was about their pleasure, never hers. Liaisons were had in dark alcoves, closets and Templar quarters and lasted as long as the Templar, or mage, lasted.

Cullen himself had similar experiences, his young mage in the tower not his only sexual encounter before leaving Ferelden. There had been at least two Templars, both women, though he had patiently allowed a young man to prove to him what he'd already, always known: he was most certainly not fond of bedding men but gave little mind to those who did. He then described the first time he used his tongue on a woman's pleasurable area between her thighs and Miriana blinked at him, startled.

She understood what an orgasm was through self-pleasure but was stunned to learn that attentive men could raise it from an eager woman's body with patience and a knowledge of what aroused her. Cullen's smug attitude suggested he was well-versed in this form of foreplay.

He was amazed and disappointed that she had never experienced it in the embrace of another man. "Another _man_ ," she said with a smile. "I've been with women as well, though they never put their mouth down there. They at least know where to touch for the greatest effect but that a _man_ could… Maker, the idea that a man could, through making love to me, bring me to orgasm as well…" Her voice trailed off as Cullen leaned in and kissed her neck, his fingers slowly pressing into the waist of her pants.

"I showed you what I could to you with my fingers… Imagine what I can do to you with my tongue…" he murmured as he found the sensitive spot nestled with the folds of flesh between her thighs. She closed her eyes and spread her legs for him as he teased her with kisses and inquisitive fingers that seemed to know exactly how to stir her desire most. But as he inched her pants down her waist, over her hips and down her thighs, she felt the rod in her hand jump. Then jump again!

"C-Cullen… The pole…" He looked at the line and it was taut, a fish clearly determined to flee its dire situation. He let out a whoop of excitement and grabbed the rod for her, his attention immediately diverted.

"Slowly… Turn the reel very slowly. Don't spook it! There you go… Perfect!" The fish was small but of edible size and thrashed about on the hook, leaping from the water as Miriana inched it in. Just as Cullen readied the bucket, another, much larger fish leapt out of the water and inhaled the smaller fish, startling both the former Templar and his Inquisitor. The boat began rocking, pitching perilously from side to side as the huge bass thrashed wildly about. It took all of Miriana's self-control not to use magic on it as Cullen helped her haul it in then grabbed the big fish around its body then dumped it into the boat, where it flopped around and soaked both humans. Within moments, they were coated in scales, wet and splattered with blood from where it injured itself in its desperate bid for freedom.

Eventually, it lay on its side, heaving, fins flapping, tail lashing the bottom of the boat from time to time as it gasped, gill flaps flaring as it tried to breathe. Cullen pulled in his line and laid the rod (with its empty hook) in the bottom of the boat while Miriana packed away the remnants of their lunch and the blanket and pillow. He started rowing the boat back to shore, a smile on his face as he looked back at her. "That was incredible!" he said, beaming. "This will be dinner enough for us both! I've been fishing my whole life and this never happened to me." Miriana smiled as she pulled her pants back up rather reluctantly.

"When was the last time you went fishing?" she asked.

Cullen hesitated as he thought about it. He didn't fish during all those years in Kirkwall and after the incident at the circle, he couldn't find the desire to take pleasure in even the simple things in life, like fishing, though he was ordered by Greagoir to take time off and "chill out" before he snapped. That dark period had mostly been spent deep in prayer in the Chantry during the days leading up to his transfer to Kirkwall. "Maker… It's been… Fifteen years? I suppose I was seventeen or eighteen the last time I did this. I had just been made a full knight and the Order sent me home for a short visit before my permanent assignment. After that, my duties kept me too busy to think about it. I've missed it. What did you think?"

Miriana smiled and touched his soft, blond hair with her fingertips as she said, "It was nice, except the worm. I really hated the worm. But just spending time with you was nice. I had fun."

"We'll do it again, then?" he said eagerly as he looked back at her.

Miriana nodded, beaming, as she said, "As long as you captain my ship, Ser, I'll go on any voyage you embark upon."

He chuckled softly as he steered the boat through the water toward their pier, the sun lacing them with dappled shadows and bright beams of yellow light. The day could not have been prettier, the company more delightful and his mood more content. He wanted to do much more than 'captain her ship.' In fact, he wanted to throw her on the grassy embankment and make love to her but something stopped him.

Cullen liked to be in control over himself, his emotions, his life and some irrational fear kept him from taking Miriana's body and making love to her. Knowing that she'd never been brought to orgasm save the one time by his deft fingers only made him yearn to show her more of his talents and yet… Yet the timing just wasn't right. And he hated himself for it because he knew she was eager but patient enough to wait for him to want her in return. And he did! Maker knew that he did. His fears kept him from going further, however. Was it rejection he was afraid of? The phantom chill he got when he thought of showing her how much he loved her was wrong and he hated himself for it. It made no sense.

But as he eased the boat up against the dock and roped it in place, he realized that part of his fear was driven by his lyrium withdrawals, the difficulty he was having managing them. If sex became a form of therapy rather than a mutual pleasure, it would kill him. He adored her, loved her but Cullen needed the lovemaking to be more than a crutch, more than something he used to ease his symptoms. It had to be something that happened because they wanted it, not because he needed it. It had to be when he was ready, in his own time, in his own way.

When that would be, he did not know. But life was too short to waste waiting to show such a beautiful woman how he felt. It would happen, soon he hoped. But just-not yet. He had to face his personal demons first and once he mastered his addiction then, he thought with a smile at Miriana as he helped her up onto the pier, then he would take her in the only way he knew how: with respect and the passion a woman like her deserves.

"You alright? You've been quiet for a while. Does your head hurt?" she asked in a worried voice as they walked up to the cottage, the breeze blowing her short, red hair around her violet eyes. Maker, she was perfect! He held the big fish in his arms and followed her, his pace slowing until he halted, forcing her to turn back and meet his eyes. Small scales shed on her from the fish in his arms caught the sun's dappled rays, making her sparkle ever so much that she appeared ethereal. He was entranced, staring at her in awe.

"Maker, you're _so_ beautiful…" he murmured before catching himself.

"Ahhh… No, I'm fine. Mostly fine. I'm just really happy you're with me. Look… Eh… Stop. Stop walking! We need to talk," he said, dropping their catch on the grass.

"Oh… Shit…" she said as he beckoned her closer, fear in her eyes. "Is this where you tell me that we have to end this until you recover from the lyrium addiction? Because of that's the case…" she said, heart racing, tears ready to be shed as she reached for him. He caught her and shook his head, protesting but not before she blurted, "I love you, Cullen Stanton Rutherford and I _refuse_ to let you allow this illness of yours interfere in our—" His mouth unexpectedly covered hers, ending the stream of words in a kiss that rendered her not only speechless but unable to stand.

"Shut. Up. And listen, woman!" he said when the kiss was done, her arms holding onto him tightly as he returned her embrace. "I'm not giving up on you, either. I just think I should explain myself, why I'm reluctant to take our relationship to a more physical level. You deserve that much from me."

"I'm listening…" she murmured as he picked up the fish, which was close to gasping its last breath. They walked over to the back of the cottage where she leaned against the wall as he dropped the fish on a table and withdrew a dagger from a sheath at his hip. "Don't you _dare_ clean that thing while we discuss this subject," Miriana warned him darkly. He put the dagger down and sagged against the wall.

He sighed and looked down at his feet. "It feels like excuses, sounds worse and it's selfish… But until I can know for certain that I'm able to give all of myself to you, body and soul without reservation and without fear of what this—thing—I'm dealing with will do to me, I cannot in good conscience put you in a position where I might hurt you. Lyrium withdrawal is a monster, it's unpredictable. It's very much like a form of demonic possession but in a very brutal form… I could say something, _do_ something and never mean to. If you give up your body to me and then… And then I… _Hurt_ you… I would never forgive myself." He met her eyes before looking away at the lake.

"To me, sex is not something I can do casually. I learned—things—from a lady who worked in a brothel and I regret the nature of our relationship, which was nothing more than an educational diversion. I hated not feeling anything for her, as if I was using her and I _was_ using her. It cheapened me. But you…!" He looked back at her, his hazel eyes intent on her face. "You're so, so important to me, Miriana. I have feelings for you that I've never experienced before in my life. I confess they scare me a little and complicate an already complicated situation. I just don't know if I can handle it. Am I making sense? Or just rambling?"

She sighed and pushed away from the wall to stand before him, her hands on either side of his face as she forced him to look at her. "A little of both. Look, when you're ready, I'm yours. That's all there is to it. I'll still flirt with you, though…" she murmured as she reached for his crotch. "I expect us to continue playing like we've been."

He laughed and kissed her, nipping at her nose, her lips and wrapping his arms around her slender body. "Maker, I _want_ you. You're not only beautiful but you make me yearn to be a better man. I feel like I can do this more easily with you by my side and I am thankful every day to the Maker and to you that I have won your heart. This isn't easy for me. None of it is. But you make it tolerable. Thank you, Miriana. Now… Dinner…"

"Fish can't clean itself, Cullen," she teased with a throaty laugh.

"What? I thought _you_ wanted to clean it? You eviscerate things on a daily basis! What's one little fish?" he teased as he picked the finned creature up from the table and waved it under her nose. It was strong smelling, odorous with scents of lake water and, of course, fish.

Miriana pushed it down with a disgusted twist of her lips as she leaned in for a playful kiss, her eyes closed. But instead of Cullen's lips, she kissed the bass instead. Miriana gasped, spitting and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, sputtering in disgust. "Cullen! Bad! You're… Grrr! You are in so much trouble! Just you wait, Commander! Vengeance shall be mine!"

"I love you, my lady," he said with more meaning than he intended to. It startled her, stopping her as she stormed back down the hill toward the lake with a bucket in hand. She didn't look back but only hesitated and eventually continued on her determined trek to the lake. He smiled and began carving away at the fish, gutting it and peeling away the skin and bones from the thick, pink flesh, unaware that Miriana had fetched a pail of cold water, which she now carried back up to where he fileted their dinner.

"Cullen, I mean this with great sincerity as I do what must be done because you made me kiss that fucking thing… I love you, too. Even so, it does not make you immune to my need for revenge. That fish? It shat in this water!" she announced as she swung the bucket, dousing him with its contents.

Dripping, the former Templar stood there looking like a half-drowned blond-headed rat, his clothes clinging to him and his curls dangling in his eyes. He spat out the water, wrung his hands and slowly put down the knife. Miriana watched him closely as he wiped the water off his face with his palms before carefully pulling his shirt from the waistband of his pants and peeled it off of his strong, chiseled torso. When their eyes met, she found he was impossible to read at first. Then Cullen's eyebrow raised, the muscle in his chest twitched and the scarred corner of his mouth twisted upward ever so slightly.

She was in a lot of trouble, she realized.

"Shit…" she said their eyes locked and his face was no longer an unreadable mask but an expression of purely wicked intent in his hazel gaze. A second later, she bolted down the hill, Cullen fast on her heels as she evaded the big, grasping hands. With a yelp, she ran down the dock and forced herself to halt at the end right before she could go over. Then she turned and watched in horror as Cullen sprang for her, his laughter filling the air and his expression impish as he tackled her into the cool, dark water with a chaotic splash. When they exploded from the water's surface, they were gasping and laughing, their mouths embraced in a wild, wet impassioned dance of lips and tongues.

Cullen drew her against him, his body willing, eager to show her just how deep his need for her went as he explored her breasts and bottom his hands caressing, squeezing everything. Mirina moaned against him, her pulse quickening but then she felt the thick head of his cock bump against her vagina through their clothes, making her gasp as he rubbed himself against her. "Maker, but I _really_ do want you…" he murmured against her lips in a deep, husky voice full of longing. "Alas, with all due respect, my lady…" he smiled, "You're going to have to suffer with only this barest hint of what I can do. And you know I'm _quite_ capable…" he whispered against her ear as he let her go and swam toward shore in a slow backstroke, his eyes never leaving her stunned face, a teasing smile on his perfect lips with their small, thin scar.

"What-? You! You can't do that to me! _Get back here_!" she yelled at him.

"Dinner won't cook itself and I have it on highest authority that she who makes fire must not touch food with it," he called out with a laugh as he flipped over and swam away from her.

If there had been any doubt, she thought crossly to herself as she followed him back to shore, the man was _going_ to fuck her. She would wait for him, of course, but she wouldn't make it easy on him. He had shown her his hand, his inept skill at the game now clear. This was one fish that wouldn't get away.

To be continued…


	5. Broken Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Short but sweet, Cullen has his worst attack yet.

Chains of Blue

 

Chapter 5

 

_Broken Chains_

Late that night, the fire crackled happily in the stone fireplace, sparks popping and dancing in the breeze of an open window. The cool night air allowed to freely stir the air gave the blossoming couple the opportunity they needed to stay warm in one another’s arms while the fire blazed. “What was your favorite subject while you were in training, Cullen?” Miriana asked as they snuggled under a warm blanket against a heap of many-hued pillows piled before the fire place.

 

He smiled and without hesitation, he declared, “History, of course! Particularly war history among other things. What about you?”

 

Miriana rested her head against his strong chest, which was draped in the thinnest cotton and thought for a moment as she considered the question. “I think I enjoyed history as well. Magic was all well and good but general knowledge, maths, languages, learning about how things work, that was my favorite thing. And science… I loved science.”

 

Cullen bobbed his head eagerly as he stroked back Miriana’s soft, gold-red hair and kissed her forehead. “Science was interesting to me as well, though for practical purposes of course. Templars are given nearly the same education as mages with the added bonus of learning the Chant of Light. But I wish they had been more specific about…certain things. Like the effects of Lyrium on us. You’re a mage… You ever use it? Of course you used it…”

 

The question was unexpected. Miriana searched his face, wondering why he asked. Gently, she said, “I—have…used it. Yes. Mages consume a watered down version that is considerably weaker than what Templars are given. But my mana reserves have always flourished under high-stress situations so I very rarely do consume it. So rarely that I never keep it on me.” She hoped this would answer his unspoken question.

 

Cullen simply nodded.

 

After a few moments of silence, Miriana yawned, stretched and kissed the Commander’s jaw before pulling away from him. “The floor is nice but the bed is better. I’m headed there. You coming or staying out here?” she asked as she hauled herself to her feet. One foot had fallen asleep all the way to her knee, making it difficult to stand as she steadied herself against the big warrior.

 

He caught her, held her, until she shook out the numbness from her limb. “I’ll stay here a bit longer. You get some rest and let me just…” His voice trailed off and he looked out in the direction of the open window. “I’m like Samson now. You know that? He was obsessed with Lyrium. He became dependent upon it and now, I’ve become him.”

 

“The crazy bastard by Corypheus’ side? The man leading the monster’s armies who got himself kicked out of the Templars in Kirkwall? That Samson?” Miriana scoffed. “I don’t know much about him but I do know that you are nothing at all like him.”

 

Cullen nodded as he massaged feeling back into Miriana’s foot. “I _am_ like him. I never really suffered withdrawal like I should have, you know. This recent problem is nothing like I’ve experienced so I assumed I was clear of it. It’s been almost two years, after all. Now, all of a sudden, it’s getting bad. It has created a gnawing sensation in my gut unlike anything I’ve ever endured in my life.”

 

As she gathered her robe about herself, Miriana smiled. “There is a great deal of stress with the Inquisition, with running it. You’re probably feeling that and whatever you buried before is now beginning to show itself because of everything you’re going through now. But, there is no need to worry because Cassandra thought it wise to send me along. I’m here for you.” 

 

“Hmm. My beautiful babysitter is what you are,” Cullen said with a chuckle. “And I am thankful for it.”

 

“I’m not giving up the bed but if you want to share it with me, I’ll take the company if you’re offering,” she reminded him impishly as she limped back to the bedroom. Sharp stings now lanced through her foot, causing her to walk awkwardly.

 

Cullen settled back down against the couch and watched the fire for a while longer until his eyes no longer remained open. Just a while longer, then he would join her. Then, just when sleep tried to claim him…

 

The nightmares began.

 

Miriana awoke with a start as a sound like shattering glass interrupted her pleasant dreams. Cullen was not by her side so she immediately panicked, her feet on the thick rug as she leapt from the bed and ran into the living room, a bright Fade-light above her head lending its green glow everywhere the flickering luminescence could touch.

 

She eventually found him in the living area, holding his hand, which was bleeding profusely as he knelt upon the floor near her case of mage supplies. It was the one item she had not moved to the bedroom as she assumed she would need more space for her magic and whatever magical research she needed to do while they were at the cabin. Ironically, it was not she who thought of bringing it but rather it was Solas. It looked as if Cullen had been searching for something, so scattered about were the chest’s contents. Some items even appeared to have been flung away from him in a fit of pique. All around him, where a small bottle had been crushed against the wood floor, was blood. The chest was smeared with it, as was everything he’d touched.

 

She fell to her knees, tears coursing down her cheeks as she took his injured hand despite his protests. When their eyes met, his gaze was lost, the focus elsewhere. He was so far away that she knew he must be in the throes of a horrible vision. She couldn’t call it a nightmare or a dream either as he did not appear unconscious but instead, he just seemed very distant, only vaguely aware that she was even there. Gently, she touched his face and whispered, “Cullen, wake up! Cullen!”

 

In the light of the orb above his head, his features took on a haunted, ghastly appearance and the blood on his bare chest, face and hand had turned black, like his wild, wide eyes. Tears streamed from them as he moaned, over and over again, “Help me! Help me!”

 

“I’m trying, Cullen! Stop resisting me! There’s glass in your palm. Maker’s breath, what were you doing in this chest?” Miriana demanded as she began plucking the tiny bits of glass from his palm. The bottle’s contents were pungent, an adrenalin elixir designed to coax energy from the most weary of exhausted bodies. It was derived from lyrium, brewed with a plant base but worthless unless one needed to fend off fatigue. She wondered if he’d taken some thinking the faintly glowing yellowish-green stuff was lyrium for mages.

 

Once the glass was plucked out and she was certain his palm was clear of even the minutest shards, Miriana reached into the chest where a medical kit lay, itself unbloodied, and removed it. Even if it had been opened, Cullen would have only found bandages, salves, a knife and other small, useful things in case of emergency. Miriana was happy to not have it coated in blood nonetheless.

 

The small woman pulled him unwillingly to his feet into the kitchen so that she could wash away the blood and prepare his wounds for bandaging. He was reluctantly obedient, like bathing a family pet as she scrubbed away at his palm with soap and cool water until the blood no longer flowed. With that gentle cleansing, she added a tiny dose of magic to his palm, soothing, healing magic that relaxed as it stitched together the tender, calloused flesh. Her ability to heal was weak but useful when needed.

 

As she tended him, smearing a generous portion of salve on the nasty, enflamed gashes and covering them with a medical pad and long bandages, Cullen slowly shook his head clear of the horrific visions that plagued him though his need remained. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he cried, “I need lyrium, Miriana! I _need_ it! Please, Maker, _please_ tell me you have lyrium! Just a bit, a small bit, a drop! I just need something to push back my _need_ for it!” He grabbed her arm with his free hand and forced her to meet his pleading gaze.

 

“No, Cullen! Just… No!” She said as she finished wrapping his wounded palm. “I told you that I’ve never needed it myself and I refused to allow a drop of it in our gear for this trip. Come, come, sit down with me.” She pulled him with her to the couch in front of the fire and pushed him down. “Stay. I’ll get us some brandy; it’ll help sooth your nerves.”

 

Cullen’s hazel eyes were wide, his body still as he held his injured hand and stared into the crackling fire. He was shaking. “I can’t do this, Miriana…” he said as she slipped a small glass in his hand and slid in beside him, against him, her body fitting his perfectly.

 

“Of course you can do this. You have to do this, for the Inquisition and for yourself. I have faith in you,” she said with a tender smile as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think…!”

 

“Not as a strong as you believe I am. I should not have succumbed so easily to the need. What if it happens again and I am in a place where I can get it? I can’t control it! And you cannot always be there to make sure I don’t falter. And if I can’t do it on my own, what good am I?”

 

“You’re human, Cullen. And much is still unknown about Lyrium and its long term effects on the body. Withdrawal has been known to kill people but I think usually they die not for the lack of Lyrium but for what they do to themselves when they fight the need. In this, you have me. And I will help you every step of the way, Cullen.” She downed the golden liquid in her glass as Cullen finished off his own and they smiled lovingly at one another, lips close, bodies touching. He leaned in to kiss her but she pulled away and plucked his glass from her beloved’s hand. “Refill?” she asked with a smirk as she withdrew from him.

 

He grabbed her, pulled her down upon the couch and into his powerful embrace. Fingers, calloused but soft, slid against the smooth skin of her cheek as his eyes searched hers. “You’re so much to me, Miriana… Maker, I-I… I cannot endure this without you. The chains of my addiction _must_ be broken and I realize now, I cannot break them without you.” Then, he kissed her and the glasses fell from her fingers to the wood floor where they rolled, empty, toward the dying embers of the fire.

 

There, on the couch, they kissed until they sleep claimed them until dawn, arms and legs entwined and the heat of the warm fire acting like a comforting blanket around them both.

 

 

To Be Continued…

 

 

 

 


End file.
